Star Wars: The Mandalorian and Grogu

The characters' debut on the big screen feels like a rushed TV season

Despite featuring more hours of content and story than film, television has traditionally been a faster production medium. This was largely due to smaller budgets and less effects-heavy storytelling, which allowed audiences to receive new seasons every year. As the streaming wars poured cash into TV, however, we began seeing grander scope, with budgets and visual effects beginning to rival those of the big screen, and production times to match. Game of Thrones (2011–2019) began delivering seasons every two years, Stranger Things (2016–2025) had us wait nearly four between seasons, and The Mandalorian (2019–2023) likewise spaced out its entries. The risk is that audiences grow tired and move on, or simply forget their fervor for the story altogether. While The Mandalorian was a huge hit in its first two seasons in 2019 and 2020, the decision to make a film more than half a decade after its peak is questionable at best. Yet here we are with Star Wars: The Mandalorian and Grogu (2026).

Star Wars: The Mandalorian and Grogu follows on from the three seasons of the titular characters: the bounty hunter Din Djarin (Pedro Pascal), who works for the newly reconstituted New Republic as it rebuilds a democracy from the ashes of the defeated Galactic Empire, and Grogu, the 2019 internet sensation known as "Baby Yoda," who is Djarin's ward and a fledgling Force-wielder. The film follows an assignment from a New Republic colonel (Sigourney Weaver) who wants to hunt down a fugitive Imperial general. Along the way, Djarin and Grogu become entangled with the notorious Hutt crime family, who want his help recovering a missing heir (Jeremy Allen White).

The Mandalorian and Grogu is directed and co-written by series co-creator Jon Favreau, working again alongside fellow Star Wars TV mastermind Dave Filoni. The film carries through the look, feel, and tone of the show with relative ease. The issue, however, is that it feels suspiciously like a condensed fourth season rather than a film with a cinematic structure of its own. When jumping from TV to the big screen, audiences expect the scope of story and character to expand to match the enlarged canvas. Season 2 of The Mandalorian, by contrast, featured far more epic emotional stakes and story beats. The result is a film that feels forced onto the big screen, cashing in on the last Star Wars property that still held some goodwill from viewers. The Mandalorian and Grogu feels small for the canvas it is inheriting, and a timid story that never dares step outside its comfort zone or deliver genuine stakes means it also feels inconsequential.

By cramming a slew of story beats and new characters into a still lengthy two hours and twelve minutes, Favreau and Filoni appear to have abandoned any interest in character development and world-building in favor of fight sequences. This gives The Mandalorian and Grogu a video-game feel: extended sequences feature Djarin fighting off hordes of enemies, and the only dialogue consists of updates on fetch quests and directions to the next fight. In fact, the entire film feels remarkably video-gamey, complete with boss battles, armor upgrades, chase sequences, new weapons unlocked, a water level, and a sequence in which you play as a sidekick. One wonders whether this was originally conceived as a Star Wars video game hastily adapted for the big screen. The bottom line is that despite it being seven years since the last theatrical Star Wars film, Star Wars Episode IX: The Rise of Skywalker (2019), you don't feel any urgency to return to this galaxy far, far away, because this particular film has nothing much to say or add.

Disney's coffers, however, are adept at attracting top talent, and alongside Favreau's push for more practical effects, it was refreshing to see a blockbuster employ more puppetry, real sets, and actual stunt work rather than defaulting to CGI for everything. There is still a vast amount of CGI characters and environments in The Mandalorian and Grogu, yet the artisan work put into tangible sets and puppets in select sequences is genuinely appreciable.

That attraction of top talent extends to Ludwig Göransson, who composed the already iconic theme for the show. Göransson expands on his original work here, including some new and forceful themes that showcase him as one of the most gifted composers working today. The Swede has yet to produce a forgettable score or one in which he fails to take risks. His new work in The Mandalorian and Grogu is not only something I would happily listen to at home, but it crucially helps elevate what are otherwise generic fight scenes.

While his face is covered by a helmet for much of both the film and the show, Pascal as Djarin is impressively in command of his character. Playing behind a mask is a considerable challenge for any actor, yet through head tilts and nods alone you sense Djarin's every raised eyebrow or suppressed smirk. It is impressive work using one's entire body to convey character and emotion.

In the end, The Mandalorian and Grogu feels like a rather choppy fourth season crammed into a film. The technical craft is still present and often marvellous, but you sense a lack of ideas, urgency, and scale that severely dilutes the story and its enjoyability. Disney appears to have exhausted its last exciting Star Wars property in its desperation to squeeze every last drop from the franchise. One can only wonder how much further they will push it.

5.3/10